


We'll Be Looking for Sunlight

by prettyaveragewhiteshark



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: College AU, F/F, Korrasami - Freeform, roadtrip au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-18 10:46:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4703189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyaveragewhiteshark/pseuds/prettyaveragewhiteshark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summer after her first year in college and the universe is crashing down on Korra. She has to get home, a seemingly hopeless task that is turned into possibility when an acquaintance from math class offers to drive her across the country to get her there. The road is open and long, and even through the hopelessness of Korra's situation, she finds that possibilities are always endless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You hate the way her voice sounds over the phone - full of tears and ready to shatter. You have your hand on your forehead, leaning over, trying to hold yourself together. You turn to sit sideways on the bench, presenting your back to the majority of the courtyard. Hopefully no one will see the tears in your eyes.

“I’ll find a way to get home, mom. I promise,” you say.

“Maybe we can fly you out…” she responds, and you can hear her bravery even though her voice falters.

“No,” you respond quickly, knowing full well that she’d buy the ticket before the conversation even ends if you so much as consider accepting the offer. “No, it’s okay. I can probably find someone to ride with, I’m sure they have a group on Facebook or something for carpooling. It’ll work out.”

She sounds doubtful, but she agrees, probably too tired to protest anymore.

“I gotta get back to class,” you tell her. “I love you. I’ll talk to you later.”

You can hear her voice split right down the middle as she says “I love you too, Korra,” and you shut your eyes and listen as the ended call tritone sounds in your ears.

It was a lie. Classes have been over for six days now - you just turned in your final essay for exam week - but listening to her heartbreak and worry over the phone is becoming too much, and you only feel a little guilty for cutting the conversation short. It gets harder and harder to answer her calls these days, knowing that you’ll hear her tear-filled voice on the other end, knowing that you’re the source of her pain. You tuck your phone away in your backpack, passing your hand across your cheek to get rid of any stray tears.

There aren’t any carpooling pages on Facebook. You’ve already checked. A bus ticket all the way across country would nearly be as expensive as a plane ticket, and a taxi would be even worse. Your elbows are on your knees and you have your hair in fists.

_What am I gonna do?_

You clench your teeth, holding the new wave of tears at bay. You’re so tired of crying. You’re so fucking angry that this is how you live now. There is chaos in your veins and you feel a scream building in your chest.

You explode to your feet, huffing away the tears that have built up in your eyes, snatching your bag from the bench and storming out of the courtyard. You know exactly where this energy needs to go.

\--------

The growling bass line of Big Data’s _Dangerous_ courses in your veins, drowning out the sound of every other meathead who decided to use the gym as a way to work off the stress of finals. As far as you’re concerned no one else exists but you and the heavy bags waiting for you on the far wall. You sit cross-legged, winding wrap around your hands in smooth, steady swathes. You still haven’t been able to figure out the lyrics of this song, but it doesn’t really matter. Thoughts don’t have a chance to intrude here, not with the pounding rhythm in your ears and the methodical movement as you twine the cloth in a familiar pattern around your palms and fingers.

It takes you all of five seconds to decide to fuck the warm-up. You need to hit something, and you need to hit it now. You get to your feet, only rolling your shoulders a few times before you cross the mats and lay into the first heavy bag you can reach. The thud of your fists against the dense canvas sounds like a heartbeat.

Your combo sends the bag veering away on its short chain, and you meet it with a roundhouse as it swings back toward you. Momentum spins you 180 degrees and you gain your balance for a moment then slam your heel against the bag in a backward kick. A quick pivot, twisting on the balls of your feet, and you’re facing forward again, catching the bag in open hands and kneeing into it hard, once, twice, three times. Your knee burns and you know you just skinned the hell out of it but you don’t care. You jump into a defensive crouch, parrying invisible blows with your fists like paws in front of your face, bobbing and weaving for a few seconds, and then you’re in again. Your punches are quick and powerful and they fall like hail.

Your teeth are bared now. Air bursts out of you with each strike, a rough hissing sound that you hear echoing in your own throat. You’re not even thinking about form or aim or this combo or another, you’re just fists and rage until your skin is scraped and your bones are aching and your heart slams against the cage of your ribs.

You catch the bag then, holding it still, leaning against it, pressing your forehead to the rough material. You’re heaving for breath, letting the sweat slide down your cheeks, your temples. It finds your lips and the tang of salt is familiar. You pull the headphones from your ears because suddenly the music is too much noise and you need the silence to breathe.

Your heart rate slows; your breathing starts to feel like breathing again instead of drowning. You shrug a few demons off your shoulders and push away from the bag, drying your forehead with your wrapped hands as you make your way off the mats. You pull your gym back out from under the bench and a voice suddenly startles you.

“That looked like a personal vendetta.”

You look up quickly, jarred out of your thoughts. You hadn’t even noticed that someone else was sitting on the other end of the bench.

Asami Sato has a half smile on her face, looking at you as she pulls her shoes off.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you respond lamely. “Just blowing off some steam I guess.”

“You’re really good,” she says. “I didn’t know you were into martial arts, too.”

You’re equally surprised to see her here. You only just met her this semester, though, so you don’t feel too bad for not knowing the details of her extracurricular life. The two of you had shared a math class. Her smarts in the subject matter and your abysmal hatred of it ended up making the two of you very well-matched study partners. You’d never been able to figure out why she had devoted so much time outside of class to helping you with your assignments. She was clearly never in need of extra study - to hear her talk about math was like listening to someone speak their native language - but whatever the reason, you know she’s the only reason you got a B- on the final exam instead of maintaining your track record of failing math classes.

“Thanks,” you say, managing to return what you hope is something resembling a smile. You sit, unwrapping your hands. “I didn’t know you did this stuff either. I’ve never seen you around here.”

“I have a membership off campus,” she shrugs. “I just didn’t feel like driving out there today, I have to get in some close and personal time with the library right after this.”

You just nod, unable to muster the strength to carry on a casual conversation. You toss the roll of wrap from your right hand into your bag, starting in on unwinding your left. She glances over at you, you can tell by the movement of her hair more than anything, but you don’t look up. The silence stretches; you can hear the muffled bass of the music that’s still playing from your dangling headphones.

“Hey, is everything okay?” she finally asks, and her voice is quiet. “I don’t want to be nosy, I’ve just noticed that you’ve seemed kind of... I don’t know, off, I guess, these past few weeks.”

You feel that familiar constriction in your chest and your hands close. You take a deep breath, ready to tell her that you’re fine just like you’ve told everyone else for the past two weeks and four days but this time the lie chokes you and suddenly the truth is spilling out as you stare at your hands.

“No...no, everything is not okay. My life is kind of a wreck right now, actually. I’m trying to get home for the summer because...I really need to be with my family right now, but I don’t have a car and plane tickets are too expensive for me to pay for, and I’m not gonna make my parents pay for them cause that’s bullshit, they’re gonna have plenty on their hands already with all the medical bills which is…” Your voice catches before you can say _which is my fault_ and you blink, clearing your throat. “Which is enough for them to deal with as it is. So, yeah, I don’t know, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

You glance up at her and she’s looking at you with such sadness that it stops your heart a little and makes you realize how fucking much you just said.

“Sorry, sorry.” You look away, a humorless laugh in your throat. “Sorry, that was like way too much information, I didn’t mean to unload on you.”

“No, no! It’s really okay. I mean, I asked you,” Asami offers. She’s quiet for a moment and you can feel your ears burning, but then she continues. “You’re from Oregon, right?”

You look up at her again, startled this time. “Uh, yeah...yeah I am.”

“Let me give you a ride,” she tells you, and you’re searching her eyes and finding nothing but the utmost sincerity.

“No, Asami, I didn’t mean...I wasn’t trying to guilt you…”

“Korra, it’s okay. I have family up in Washington, I promised to visit them some time this summer anyway. It would really not be a problem to drop you off on my way there. Honestly. I’d be happy to help.”

Her words are sinking in and something in the back of your head is telling you that you need to close your mouth and stop staring at her like that but you feel dumbstruck and overwhelmed and for the first time in eighteen days you don’t feel like you’re being crushed under a mountain of worry and you feel a smile, a real smile, crossing your face.

“Are...are you sure?” you stammer. “I mean, don’t feel obligated, I could figure something else out.”

“I’m positive,” she says, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she mirrors your expression.

You shake your head, disbelief rendering you silent for a few moments before words start pouring out in a torrent.

“Asami, thank you, I mean… thank you. I can… I’ll pay for gas the whole way, and I’ll bring snacks and shit, I’ll do whatever you need, I owe you huge, Asami, thank you so much, seriously I don’t know how to…”

She laughs, holding up her hands. “Woah, slow down, take it easy. I’m giving you a ride, not paying your way through college. It’s seriously no problem at all. I have my last exam tomorrow and then I can go any time after that. Does that sound okay?”

She leaves you with her number, telling you to text her whenever to coordinate when you want to leave town and you leave the gym feeling like it must have been fate that sent you to the gym at exactly the right time because something is finally working out. You go to your dorm and start packing and even when the sun sets you don’t feel like crying.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hallelujah i finally finished chapter 2

The windows are down and Band of Horses plays quietly on the speakers. You’ve been driving for hours now, and the conversation hasn’t been anything short of effortless. Korra has her arm resting on the windowsill, and you can’t help but notice that her face looks brighter, her eyes more clear, than you’ve seen in weeks. You’re glad, and you feel a smile touch your lips and you nod as she gestures along to her words.

“I dunno, I’ve always just had a connection with animals I guess. Maybe that sounds dumb but it’s true. I mean my dog has been one of my best friends growing up, and when she got hit by a car it kind of made me realize that what I really want to do is help save animals, take care of them if they’re sick, fix them if they get hurt, that kind of thing.”

“That makes sense,” you say. “I’m sorry about your dog, though.”

“Oh, she’s okay. Broke her leg and a couple of ribs, but that was years ago. It’ll take a lot more than a car to take Naga out,” she laughs.

“So you want to be a vet, then?”

“I guess, yeah. Not exactly a vet, but close. I mean, my dream is to rescue animals from abusive homes, strays that have been left on the streets, nurse them back to health and then give them to a family that’ll love them. That would be pretty awesome. Eventually I’d love to travel, go to Africa, help with animal conservation and rescue, stuff like that.”

“That’s seriously amazing,” you say, glancing over at her, and she beams. “I mean, that’s really selfless of you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” she shrugs, but she’s still smiling. “And you, you’re going into….don’t tell me, I know this.” She hunches forward, two fingers on each temple, narrowing her eyes as she thinks. “You told me before, I know it, I just gotta remember.”

“It’s -” you start, but she throws her arm out, her palm a few inches from your face.

“No, no! Don’t tell me! I got this.”

That jars a laugh out of you. “You don’t even want a hint?”

“No! Lemme think first...hang on...I know this.”

The next few minutes are spent trying to stifle laughter as Korra tries various thinking poses to jog her memory. She leans back toward the window, facing you, holding up her fingers in a square to squint at you through it.

“You look like you could be...a photographer?”

“Nope.”

“Shit. Architect?”

“You’re getting warmer.”

“Hot damn,” she says excitedly. “Okay, so something with building things?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, who else builds things,” she mutters, tapping her chin. Her lip juts out in a thoughtful pout as she looks at you. She narrows her eyes. “What, an engineer?”

You feel your eyebrows lift and you can’t help the smile that stretches across your face.

“You’re pretty good at this.”

“Wait, I was right?” she bursts out.

You laugh. “Yeah, mechanical engineering.”

“Woo!” she punches both fists at the ceiling. “Nailed it. I’m amazing. Okay, so that’s awesome. No wonder you’re so good at math. What does a mechanical engineer do?”

“Builds things, mostly. Cars, heavy machinery, military vehicles, that kind of thing. I mean I grew up on this stuff so I already know a lot about it. The degree is more of a formality since I’ll be inheriting my dad’s company when I’m old enough anyway.”

“Wait. What’s your dad’s company?”

“Sato Industries.”

She doesn’t respond but out of the corner of your eye you can see her staring at you.

“Your dad runs Sato Industries?” she says in a tone bordering on awe.

You try not to wince, eyes on the road.

“Yeah, it’s not really a big deal though.”

“That’s sick though!” she exclaims. “Growing up working with all that stuff.”

It takes you a moment to reply as you realize she hasn’t gone in the familiar direction of pointing out how much money must be sitting in the Sato family name.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. I mean, after my mom died my dad’s workshop was pretty much my playroom since we couldn’t afford a babysitter back then. That, and I think my dad couldn’t handle having me out of his sight. He was lonely, too. Young as I was, I think he needed the company.”

There’s a shocked pause, and when Korra finally speaks her voice is hushed. She almost sounds afraid. “I’m so sorry about your mom, Asami. That’s awful, I can’t even imagine…” She trails off.

Her hesitancy to continue is familiar. People rarely know what to say when talking about death, you’ve noticed. No one wants to step on any toes, but also there’s never much to say about it anyway.

“It is what it is, you know?” you respond automatically, a shrug rising in your shoulder. “My dad is amazing, raising me and building the company the way he did despite everything. When I think about the way things could have gone, I can’t really complain.”

“That’s...that’s a pretty incredible outlook, honestly. I don’t know if I could be so positive about it.”

“Sometimes that’s the only choice there is.”

“Still,” she says. “Credit where credit is due.”

That makes you smile a little. “So what does your dad do?”

“Oh, he works for a construction company. He used to be an office worker but he really hated it and mostly only stayed with his old company to make a living for the family. But my mom convinced him a few years ago to do what he loves, and so he quit and found a job out in Oregon. Doesn’t pay as well, but he’s happy now. Doesn’t come home looking like he just got hit by a truck, you know? I mean, he’ll be tired but just physically, not...I don’t know, spiritually tired, if that makes sense.”

You nod. “I know exactly what you mean.”

You’re about to ask her something, maybe about her mom, or if she has any siblings, when she suddenly bolts forward in her seat, her hands slapping against the dash. You whip your gaze to follow hers, an adrenaline spike making your heart beat uncomfortably fast, looking for a downed tree or dead animal that you should be swerving to miss. All you see is a white sign, painted in big red letters:

 

**COUNTY FAIR - NEXT TWO EXITS**

 

Korra turns to you eagerly. “How do you feel about fairs?”

You look at her briefly, only just realizing you’re still white-knuckling the steering wheel.

“Korra, you just scared the shit out of me. I thought something was wrong.”

Her expression changes and it’s almost like watching a puppy’s ears drop when it’s in trouble.

“Oh my gosh, I’m...fuck, I’m sorry Asami. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just...I have this thing about fairs.”

You let out a hard exhale, a laugh coming with it. “You don’t fucking say.”

“I’m sorry!” she says, relieved that you’re not angry. “Sorry, sorry.”

The stretch of quiet isn’t very long at all.

“So…” she hesitates. “Does that mean you don’t like fairs?”

You give her a look, pausing for effect.

“I actually love fairs,” you finally say. “You wanna go?”

“Ha!” she shouts. “Yes, yes I do!”

Her celebrations continue from the highway until you’re finally pulling into the dusty parking lot outside the fairgrounds, and then she practically bounces out of the car and you’re surprised she doesn’t sprint all the way to the ticket booth. 

* * *

You can hardly keep the grin off your face for more than a few seconds at a time. It’s been years since you went to a carnival, and you’re so glad that Asami decided to humor you on this random side-trip. She’s looking at the prices of tickets.

“So how many do we want to get?” she asks you.

“Well, economically speaking, it would probably make the most sense to just get the unlimited wristband. Just in case we want to go on every ride twice. Or three times.”

She glances over at you, her eyebrows raised, looking both amused and a little confused.

“How long did you want to stay here?”

You backpedal. “I mean, we don’t have to stay long at all, if you want to get back on the road.”

She laughs, “Korra, this is your trip, remember? If you need to get back to your family in a hurry, I don’t want to delay you.”

The reminder is like a slap in the face. That’s right. For a second you had let yourself forget. In talking with Asami and enjoying the hum of the road beneath the wheels, in the breeze and the sun and the new smell of the inside of Asami’s Jeep, the worry had gotten lost. It threatens to come raging back now, reminding you of everything yet to be done, getting home, seeing your parents, figuring out money and treatments...

Asami is watching you, the color green of her eyes muted but still shining, and the thought hits you out of nowhere.

Not yet.

You’ll face it all, you will, you have to, but not yet. Summer is just beginning to burn the horizon at night, stretching the days, the sun rising earlier and earlier. There’s a whole country to drive and probably all kinds of places to see, and there’s this girl, this woman, who really strikes you as someone who could maybe change your life for the better and even if not she’s been wonderful company so far, and it’ll be a shame to ruin it all by going too fast and letting it disappear in a blur of highway lines and too few sunsets. Reality will come eventually, but not yet.

“Oh, no, no that won’t be a problem,” you assure her, and there a tension that releases in your chest as you make the decision. “My parents aren’t even at home right now, my dad took my mom on a trip to California as a surprise so they won’t be back to the house for a week I think. We’ve got plenty of time.”

The smile stretches across Asami’s face and you think to yourself that time is probably the only thing you’ll ever need.

\---------

The fair is just like every other fair you’ve been to - wonderful in every way. Brightly colored booths hawk fried candy bars and cotton candy and funnel cakes, rolling neon lights flash in eye-catching patterns, the weekend crowd is buzzing with the early taste of summer, and noise and laughter mingle with tinny music and the distant shrieks of people on rides being spun and flipped until they can’t walk straight.

You and Asami can’t talk much except to ask which ride is next, the noise of the crowd is too overpowering for a real conversation, but you can’t find it in you to mind. There’s something in the way you don’t have to speak, and the energy that fills the air between you and her. The sun hasn’t set; it dances above the horizon, not yet filling the sky with a rich tapestry of red and orange but tinting everything with a pastel haze. The smell of cooking oil and diesel and spun sugar are familiar and even in this strange place you feel a new kind of home.

Asami is aglow, more often than not taking the time to watch the undercarriage of whatever ride you’ve agreed to go on, pointing out to you the details of how everything is operating. She tells you about rotary belts and hidden cogs and powerful, greased pistons that make everything work behind the scenes and you don’t know what most of it means but you love the way her eyes flick as she watches the movements of the mechanical parts and the unconscious smile that creases her cheeks as she shares with you the marvel of carnival technology.

The rides aren’t that big; the biggest rollercoaster is smaller than most you’ve been on at amusement parks, but you still whoop and holler at the top of your lungs for every drop and turn because you know any ride would be boring if you don’t have the enthusiasm to make it a good time. It cracks Asami up; you pretend not to notice but you can’t help but smile every time she laughs while she’s looking at you.

You live up to your word from the beginning of the night and ride nearly every ride at least twice before Asami insists on taking a break. Your head is still swimming several minutes after your most recent go on the Scrambler, so you agree.

“I could still go for some cotton candy, though,” you tell her, steering your path in the direction of the nearest concession booth. “You want some?”

“Sure, of course,” she says, mild surprise in her voice.

“Two bags, please,” you tell the man through the window. “One pink and one…” You look over your shoulder at her.

“You want pink or blue?”

“Blue.”

“And one blue,” you tell the worker.

You wander together, finding a bench to sit on and pinching puffs of spun sugar from each others’ bags while you watch people pass by.

“I can never tell if these are actually different flavors or if it’s a placebo effect because of the colors,” Asami remarks.

“They’re definitely flavored differently,” you tell her confidently.

“And you’re sure about that?” She sounds amused.

“Definitely.”

“Alright, close your eyes.”

“What, why?”

“You have to prove your theory,” she grins. “You close your eyes, I’ll give you some cotton candy to taste, and you have to tell me if it’s pink or blue.”

You can’t help but smile. “You’re on.”

You close your eyes and open your mouth and you can feel the sugar dissolve as she places it on your tongue. Your confidence in identifying the flavor dissipates just as quickly as you realize that the sweetness is completely ambiguous. You screw up your face though, pretending to carefully assess the flavor before you say with false confidence, “Blue.”

You open your eyes to see Asami smiling and holding her thumb and two fingers up, wisps of pink cotton candy still stuck to the tips.

You drop your head back, hands flying up in exasperation, “Oh, come on!”

She starts laughing.

“That was an honest effort, I mean you really tried,” she says in between bursts of laughter.

“That wasn’t fair!” you protest. “I was thrown off cause I still had the flavor from my last bite on my tongue.”

“Sure you did,” she says, and winks at you, and your heart stumbles over itself so hard you forget what you were trying to convince her of.

“Come on,” she laughs, standing up. “These rides haven’t seen the last of us yet.”

The sun is down and the stars are out when you both decide to call it a night. Your feet ache and you feel kind of sick from the carnival food but Asami is still laughing at a joke you told five minutes ago and you can tell she’s a little punch drunk but you don’t mind the way she stumbles into you a little as you make your way across the gravel parking lot.

“That was fun,” she says with a satisfied sigh. “I’m glad you saw that sign.”

You glance up at her and her hair looks glossy in the moonlight and you can still tell that she’s smiling even though her face is in shadow.

“Me too,” you say.

 


End file.
